


Light the Way Home

by tieria



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Families of Choice, Fireworks, Fluff and Angst, Hanoi Family, Multi, Pre-Canon, Summer Festivals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 09:19:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14375763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tieria/pseuds/tieria
Summary: The summer days were long, and the road before them even longer. But if they could just have one night a year to forget how far they'd gone astray, then that would be enough.[Hanoi Family, the time they make for each other, and Den City's annual fireworks festival.]





	Light the Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> It's a little early for summer fic but we just had a fireworks festival where I'm living now and it seems to be summer in the vrains universe so! Better to be early for seasonal fic than late right

They never had to go far to watch the fireworks. It was by unofficial but open invitation that the three Knights of Hanoi were invited to the Kogami household for Den City’s summer firework festival, and for as long as Ryoken could remember, it had been tradition that they accepted.

Despite their increased activities in the network, this year was no exception. It was an unspoken contract that no work would be done the evening of the festival- at six pm sharp they’d quietly excuse themselves, arriving at the Kogami residence by seven pm or so. This year they trickled in one by one- Spectre, who hadn’t actually had to _arrive_ , given that he’d spent the night. Then Genome, fingers twitching as if he wanted to check the results of some experiment or another he’d been running but refused to break the sanctity of their agreement. Not ten minutes behind him was Aso, dressed quite fashionably, sleek in black. The four of them congregated on the porch steps, waiting for the final car to drive up and chatting away the daylight.

They didn’t have to wait long- Kyoko stole the show as she stepped carefully out of her car. She was dressed in a summery yukata, and Ryoken immediately thought it suited her. Fish and flowers were drawn in delicate blue across the bottom, almost pastel against the navy of the base fabric. Yellow obi tied around her waist accentuated the gold and blue flower pins in her hair. She’d obviously taken great pains with her appearance, and the reason why was apparent. Aso immediately went out to greet her, extending her a hand they all knew she didn’t actually need to help her out of the car.

“You look beautiful,” Aso said, closing the car door behind her. Kyoko pushed back a bit of stray hair that hadn’t actually moved from its place.

“Nonsense,” she replied, brushing out a wrinkle in her obi that didn’t exist, “I just threw this on when I finished work. You don’t have to flatter me.”

Ryoken glanced over at Spectre, who’d lifted an eyebrow. He patted Spectre on the shoulder, resisting the urge to laugh and remind Spectre of all the unnecessary things he’d done just in the past week.

“Chivalry,” Genome snorted, though it was the voice he used when he was actually rather fond. He called over- “It’s a good look, Kyoko.”

“Thank you. Shall we head down then?” Kyoko implored, flustered by the attention. Ryoken made the first move, weaving quick around them to start down the drive, but not before paying Kyoko a compliment of his own as he passed.

The summer had yet to hit its peak, and a cool breeze off the ocean blew the evening humidity away. The pass down to the road was long, but the walk was comfortable as the sun sank further and further down the horizon, waiting for the sea to swallow it whole. The further down they descended, the louder the white noise became- the hum of generators, the buzz of the crowd, the sizzle of food on the grills and the whirl of shaved ice machines shaking the plastic folding tables they’d been set up on, making the displays sway perilously beside them. Aso snatched a water bottle just before it slid off the edge and placed it much further back. Kyoko smiled at his side.

“This reminds me of our university days,” she said, an allusion to a time before Ryoken had known them- or at least before he’d been this close to them.

“Please don’t remind me,” Aso replied with a nervous chuckle. Ryoken made a mental note to ask them about it later. He wasn’t going to school, but university was a distant thought. The more embarrassing stories he could pry out of them now, the less ammunition they’d have to tease him with later.

As a tightly-knit group they pushed themselves into the flowing crowd from the milling outskirts, headed towards the slope at the far end of the road that led to the beach they’d spend the evening on.

The path along the ocean was illuminated bright by the electric lanterns of festival stalls, drowning out even the overhead lights. The air was heavy with savory scents- takoyaki and okonomiyaki, mostly, but hints of yakitori and yakisoba in the smoke that floated out from their respective stalls as they passed. It all made Ryoken rather hungry, and he paused before one of them, watching chefs flip takoyaki smoothly into containers. Spectre stopped just a few steps later, turning back to Ryoken.

“Sorry,” he said, and returned to Spectre’s side. He grabbed Spectre’s hand as he did, gently tugging him forwards.

“So we don’t get lost,” Ryoken said, referencing casually one of the first times they’d been to the festival together- when Aso and Kyoko and Genome had, in fact, somehow managed to lose them in the press of the evening crowd.

“I hardly think we’ll get lost now,” Spectre replied, though Ryoken didn’t miss the way Spectre squeezed his hand as they hurried to catch up with Kyoko and Aso. If the two had noticed their absence, they were hardly surprised by their reappearance. Ryoken figured they wouldn’t be- after all, they were hardly such children anymore, jostled blindly along in the flow of people, unable to see over shoulders or push their way through.

“Which begs the question- where did Genome go?” Spectre asked somewhat belatedly, and Ryoken glanced around- just for the man himself to pop out of the crowd a second later, waving a beer can victorious in one hand.

“You couldn’t have waited?” Aso asked, faintly exasperated.

“What? I’ve been waiting all day for this,” Genome said, ostensibly meaning the beer but more likely referring to the festival as a whole.

“If you already got a drink, then go find us a spot on the beach,” Aso said. Genome all but rolled his eyes, though he accepted the bag Kyoko passed him without complaint.

“Make sure you get me another one. And okonomiyaki,” Genome said, then disappeared into the crowd again, weaving his way towards the beach ahead.

Aso shook his head, then turned back to the group at hand. “Speaking of. I owe you kids shaved ice, don’t I?”

“Every year.” Ryoken grinned with all the audacity of a seven year old kid who’d challenged a twenty-two year old man to a game of Duel Monsters- their stakes a joking bet of a lifetime supply of shaved ice- and won handily.

Aso sighed -probably reliving the memory of the turn he realized Ryoken wasn’t only going to win, but going to hold him to the bet- and handed him two thousand-yen bills from his wallet. Ryoken accepted with his free hand, folded them neatly, and slipped them into his pocket.

“Takoyaki and yakisoba for me,” Ryoken said.

“I’d like yakisoba as well,” Spectre added, nodding his brief thanks at Kyoko and Aso for making the rounds.

“Got it,” Aso said, waving them off, “We’ll find you on the beach. Go get your sweets; we’ll be right behind you.”

“Thanks,” Ryoken said, then pulled Spectre away, searching for the next stall.

“You’re spoiling them,” he heard Kyoko say as they wandered down the path to the next shaved ice stand. What Aso replied, though, he had no idea- it was lost to a group of chattering girls that stepped up behind them, debating what flavor of shaved ice to get.

“Let’s get the big ones,” Ryoken said, staring up at the menu. They’d added new flavors, this year, and he half-wondered if they were any good.

“They’ll melt before we even eat half of them,” Spectre replied, then added- “Mango. And let’s add fresh fruit in the base.”

“I like the way you think,” Ryoken replied, tallying up the total in his head before stepping up to make their order. The wait was short; the attendant quickly held out a wide plastic cone in one hand, other palm upturned for money, which rather unfortunately required Ryoken to drop Spectre’s hand in order to deal with both. He passed the first cone off to Spectre, then grabbed the second and the change for himself, and together they made their way out of the crowd.

Spectre didn’t pick his hand back up again, but they brushed comfortably as they wandered back down towards the beach, searching through the sea of sand and blankets for the familiar checkered spread, red and white and a little battered around the edges.

It didn’t take them particularly long, even in the low light of the sun almost set. Genome waved them over- he’d managed to find a spot just off from the center of the beach, crammed in tight between a family, parents watching their kids running up and down the sandy aisles, and a young man obviously holding down the fort for the rest of his group.

“Nice spot,” Ryoken said, sitting in the corner directly opposite Genome after brushing out the part of the blanket that had been blown up by the wind. Spectre sat down next to him and hummed agreement.

“Fought a few people for it,” Genome replied after a long sip of beer. Ryoken had no idea if he was serious and had no intention of asking. Instead he pulled his straw from the shaved ice and took a bite, relishing in the nostalgic taste.

“Here, try this. It’s really good,” Ryoken said, scooping a mound off the top and holding it out to Spectre.

“You get the same flavor every year,” Spectre said, though it wasn’t a protest. He leaned forwards to eat the pile of green ice off the spoon part of Ryoken’s straw. “I already know it’s good.”

“Then why don’t you ever get it?”

“Because then you wouldn’t be able to eat any of mine,” Spectre replied, and summarily shoved his shaved ice at Ryoken, who took a generous bite straight off the top for himself. Mango, sweet and sticky over the smooth ice. Not bad, but he still preferred the melon.

Spectre frowned at him with no force. Ryoken grinned, only slightly apologetic, to which Spectre shook his head and finally tried his own.

“Nothing but couples,” Genome muttered, unsubtle even under his breath. It also wasn’t a complaint, but Ryoken made sure to flash him a flat look regardless. Genome scoffed and waved his beer can in their direction, which was all the comment he got time for before Kyoko and Aso returned, the former carrying a drink tray and the latter’s hands and wrists loaded with plastic bags. Genome shifted over towards their side of the blanket to let Kyoko and Aso take the far side, setting the plastic bags and drinks in the center. It seemed to Ryoken that there were more than usual, but he’d never paid all that much attention before- it had never been his job. Genome reached over to take his second drink from the tray, and Kyoko took hers, whispering something into Aso’s ear. Ryoken wondered when it would be his turn- when he turned twenty, most likely- and found himself looking forward to it. Across the blanket Aso muttered his reply to Kyoko-

“And no alcohol for the children,” Aso said much louder, summarily snatching the last of the beers away for Ryoken’s slowly creeping hand. Aso shot him a warning look, and Ryoken laughed. Spectre sighed as Kyoko handed them soda cans; Ryoken nudged him in the shoulder, a wordless reassurance that he wouldn’t have actually tried it. Probably. It hardly would’ve been the worst crime he’d committed, anyway.

He shook away the thought. That reminded him-

“Here’s your change,” Ryoken said, setting down the soda can to pull the coins from his pocket with his free hand. He dropped them in Aso’s waiting palm. “All four hundred yen of it.”

“Four hundred- What did you kids order?” Aso glanced over at their already half-melted, dented cones of shaved ice, loaded with fruit packed into the plastic cone, and shook his head. “Don’t spoil your dinner.”

“Speaking of,” said Genome, learning over to paw at the plastic bags beside Aso, “Where’s my okonomiyaki?”

“Please have patience,” Kyoko sighed, and handed him the proper bag. Genome thanked her enthusiastically, and Ryoken dug back into his shaved ice, enjoying the familiar banter until the sun and well and truly set and the fireworks began. By then the empty containers had been pushed to the far edge of the blankets, letting them spread across it, gazes firmly on the dark sky above.

Spectre sank into Ryoken’s side as the fireworks burst in simple rhythm, blooming across the sky. On the other side of the blanket he knew Kyoko and Aso were doing the same. Genome sprawled out before them, quietly admiring the display that drew gasps from the crowd around them with every new sizzling, simple pattern.

Ryoken watched, and thought that he loved the summer and the fireworks- not more than anything, but more than most things. It would never be a night that lasted forever, not even in his dreams. But if it was the one night that they could all forget, the one night that their burdens could seem like distant, faraway things of the past- then Ryoken would treasure every irreplacable second of it.

* * *

It was by unofficial but open invitation that they were invited to the Kogami household for the annual fireworks festival Den City put on over the ocean, and despite everything, this year was no exception. They’d woken scattered and shaken, knowing full well that living meant failure- not only for them, but for the children, too. And that, at least, was a relief. None of them had wanted things to go as far as they had. The children had never deserved to carry the weight of their sins.

They’d all realized, in the moments after waking- If this was the road they’d chosen for atonement, then they’d well and truly failed. _The ends justify the means_ only held true when the end was something of value. Once again they’d hurt people, hiding under the guise of a vague but tantalizing greater good. It didn’t matter what their intentions were when they’d taken matters into their own hands, just that their noble burdens had shattered what they’d once thought the strongest thing in their lives-

But again did the festival roll around, and again did they all gather at the empty house, windows dark and devoid of life.

“I’m sorry,” Kyoko said, stepping out from her car parked at the very end of the Kogami drive, feeling disheveled and worn, “I just came from work. There was a bit of an emergency just as I was about to leave.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Aso said, though it did little to make her feel better. That made two years in a row that she was last to arrive. Though, she thought, glancing around their solemn group of four, she hoped she was speaking too soon.

Their walk down to the beach was quiet, spent with nothing but passing remarks and breath so soft it might as well have been held. They went to set up the blanket first this year, given their late start. The sun had already begun to set, steeping the sky in deep oranges and pinks akin to the fireworks that would paint it again in a few hours. They quickly found the best spots were already gone, but Spectre found them a decently sized spot a bit back from the shore, between two groups of university students and a foreign couple, chatting away in a language Kyoko couldn’t identify.

She pulled the blanket from her bag, intending to lay it down quickly but pausing to stare at it instead. It was an old blanket, one she should have bought a replacement for years ago. But the stains and frays of it were nostalgic things- reminders of days in the decade that had passed.

The first year they’d come- an odd group, back then. Three undergrad coworkers, their boss’ son, and the child that clung to him, wary of the adults that couldn’t seem to figure out how to act around such a reminder of their mistakes.

Kyoko ran her thumb over a brownish stain, remembering with a soft smile the year that Spectre had dropped his takoyaki on the beach before getting to try so much as a bite- and how Aso had rushed off to get them more before the children had so much as thought to ask.

Or the year they’d lost the kids in the crowd, terrifying at the time but amusing in retrospect- the memory Ryoken standing in front of Spectre like a knight ready to fight off the world, the two of them cornered against a yakisoba stall wasn’t one she’d ever forget.

The year that it had rained, and they’d ended up running back up the hill for towels, watching out the glass windows as Ryoken put music on to try and liven up the atmosphere in the empty parlor.

Last year- not the last bit of peace they’d had before everything had fallen apart, but certainly close to it.

“He’s not here, is he?” Kyoko asked, her voice giving it the turn of a question, rather than the statement they all felt it to be. No one answered. The empty space between them served as answer enough. Kyoko’s hands clenched the blanket tight. No one in their makeshift circle would quite meet each other’s eyes.

They’d truly thought he’d come.

“Spectre, did he…”

Surely if anyone knew where Ryoken had gone, it would be him. When Kyoko called his name he glanced up, and for a moment she dared to believe- but Spectre shook his head, glancing away just a second too slow to avoid showing the worry in his eyes. Kyoko thought that if she cared for that boy any less, she might have killed him for making Spectre fret.

“Well, according to his bank statements, he’s still alive at least,” Genome said, and their heads swiveled over to the man. Kyoko was halfway to a protest- certainly Genome hadn’t- before realizing that he most certainly would and had. It was an utter breach of privacy, but it settled some of Kyoko’s worries.

“He’ll be back when he’s ready,” Aso said, definitively calm. His certainty soothed the rest of them, and the conversation slipped back into silence, overtaken by the white noise of the crowd and the rhythm of the waves.

“Come on,” Aso said after a moment, pulling Spectre back towards the crowds at the stalls, “I owe you some shaved ice.”

“I thought the bet was-“

“He made it for two,” Aso said. Spectre blinked, then nodded, following Aso as they weaved through the patchwork-covered beach, back towards the food stalls.

In the meantime, Kyoko unlatched her fingers from the blanket. Genome took two of the corners from her, and together they finished spreading out the blanket, weighed down at its edges with small stones Genome grabbed from the water’s edge.

The moment he returned, she asked- “Do you think he’s doing all right?”

“He’s a smart kid. An idiot, but a smart kid. He’s probably getting along just fine.” Genome paused for a moment, then continued- “He’d probably be upset we bothered worrying.”

Kyoko sighed, but knew it was true. He was a kind child at heart, no matter what he told himself in order to justify the things they’d done. He wouldn’t want them to worry.

 _Unfortunately_ , thought Kyoko, _that’s not the way it works._

Aso and Spectre returned rather quickly, all things considered, Spectre carrying a set of plastic bags in one hand and a mountain of shaved ice in the other, smelling sweet with melon. Aso returned not a moment later with their drinks, balancing a tray of beers in one hand and frozen lemonade in a novelty glass for Spectre.

It was a quiet dinner, but not an unpleasant one. Ryoken wouldn’t come, this year, but they still had each other- they _had_ to have each other. A family not of blood, and not of destiny, but of choice, now, stronger than either of the others.

Night came quickly, and fireworks bloomed their way across the sky, painting tails of gold through the dark and trailing bursts of glittering color on the underside of the clouds, thick and grey over the horizon. The four of them sat together and watched- Kyoko and Aso at one edge, Genome on the other, and Spectre solitary between them. Aso’s hand slowly came down to settle over hers, a soft and welcome reassurance.

And she knew, feeling keenly the certainty that filled the space between them all- Ryoken would come back.

* * *

Plastered in the windows of every other shop Ryoken passed were posters. The same poster, actually- a dark advertisement with bright text and an even brighter illustration. Multicolored fireworks, part of the previous year’s display. Transient things caught in the camera’s lens just a  moment before their disappearance. He supposed it was natural. With the summer came fireworks, no matter how far he went. Still, something about it made him melancholy- a little guilty. Ryoken glanced down at his phone, at the date written across the lock screen.

He’d missed the festival.

Of course he had- it wasn’t as if he’d run off with the intention of being _found_. Of slinking back shaken and defeated to everyone he’d failed. Ryoken started back at the poster, at the faint traces of his reflection in the window. He glanced down at the date written across the bottom of the poster, then back at his phone, and made a snap decision. He turned on his heel, walked into the convenience store, and bought himself a ticket to the local festival that night before he had time to question himself. The sun would set soon; it wasn’t as if he’d have to wait long.

The fireworks display, Ryoken soon found, was a small thing in comparison- the biggest attraction in a suburban town with little else going for it besides cheaper rent than a city apartment. The meeting area was a small park near the center of town, buzzing with families and the occasional tourist, staking out their spots on the hill.

He hadn’t thought to bring a blanket- he’d always had Kyoko to rely on for that, even if he’d gone ahead to look for a spot. Ryoken frowned, wandered off to find something to eat, and thought he shouldn’t think on it.

The problem with that, Ryoken thought, wandering through the stalls with a hot dog in hand, hoping to make it back to the hill quickly, was that festivals were all kind of the same. Different people, different food, different surroundings- but Ryoken sat down on the side of the hill and imagined that no matter where in the world he went, staring up at fireworks in the summer sky might always feel the same. Something in his chest clenched tight. He wasn’t so much of a fool he didn’t know what, or why.

And as fireworks stained the black sky with gold dust, trailing brilliant down to the fading light of the earth, Ryoken had a thought he couldn’t stop. It was a course of action he’d been thinking for a while, one he’d returned to over and over, but never quite been able to convince himself to take until then.

Ryoken stared up at the fireworks, gripped with a feeling he’d never felt before. He didn’t know if the other Knights would agree with the decision he’d arrived at- if they’d even welcome him back after he abandoned them- but it was time to go home.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm perpetually afraid that Hanoi family is going to come back into the plot because something /bad/ happens and I'm very excited but also the fear is real. Vrains needs to give my heart a break


End file.
